Ruthless Monarch

“Governor Marino is in talks with Salvatore. If what I hear is true, and it always is, Marino is giving him port access.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.” He nods.

I motion my hand to the chair. “Sit. But before you do, grab the scotch. We have a lot to discuss.”

Lorenzo moves over to the side table, his hand reaching out to grab the decanter. Once in hand, he grabs two glasses.

“Should I even bother getting ice?”

“The fucking glasses are a stretch.” I use the remainder of my willpower not to spit on the floor.

Normally, I would drink scotch on the rocks, but right now, I just need a drink, and I don’t care if it goes down with a side of cyanide.

When both our glasses are poured, he takes a seat, and like me, I know he needs it. War may be a part of my business, but that doesn’t mean I show up to battle willingly.

But the battle is a necessary evil. To win, one must be cruel.

“So, Salvatore has access to the ports, and there is nothing we can do about it,” Lorenzo grumbles.

“Not necessarily,” I grit out through clenched teeth.

“How do you figure? Marino hates you. He’s been trying to get you out for years. We’ve been doing the same.”

“We need to find something on him.” My voice is rough, making Lorenzo tense. He places his drink down. Right before my eyes, my drinking buddy is gone, in his place is the underboss.

“I’ve tried.” He straightens his back, sitting up taller. “I have everyone looking into him. The man is squeaky fucking clean.”

“No one is that clean. Especially no one getting into bed with my cousin. We need to find something. Look into his family. His wife. His daughter. There must be something.”

“Will do.”

“Also, once you do that, I need you to call Cristian and set up a meeting. We are going to be needing a new shipment of guns, and now that Alaric Prince is retired, I need to discuss how business will proceed.”

“On it. Anything else?”

“Get Marco on the phone for me as well. Maybe he knows what Salvatore is up to.”

Lorenzo’s face falls for a nanosecond, before he rearranges it into his usual blank stare. There is no love lost between them. Marco is another cousin of mine. He’s older. Old enough that he was involved with the war between my father and Salvatore’s.

His loyalty falls with me, but Lorenzo doesn’t trust him. To be honest, I don’t either. But like all potential enemies, I keep him close.

The closer he is, the faster I will see if he’s a snake like Salvatore.

With nothing more to say, Lorenzo leaves my office.

I pick up my phone and dial a number I haven’t called in a long time.

“Hello, Matteo. I wondered how long it would take.”

“Cut the shit.”

“If you don’t want me to talk, why are you calling, Cousin?”

“You know exactly why.”

“Why so serious?” He tsks like the Joker, mirth in his voice. “Maybe you need to get laid. Is that it? Get rid of all this pent-up stress. Did you need me to help you find someone . . .” My teeth clench at his words, knowing full well what he means. “Francesca is a little old now, but I bet she still can use her—”

“Shut the fuck up!” I bellow, and he chuckles on the phone.

“Did I hit a nerve?”

“Don’t you want to be better than your sadistic father? Haven’t you had enough war? Back off now, and I’ll let you live.”

“Not a chance. I want what’s mine . . .” He pauses. “And I’m prepared to do what I need to get it.”

“You realize this is a war declaration,” I say quietly. Smoothly. There is no way back from this. Frankly, I don’t want there to be.

“Guess so.”

I launch the phone in the air, hurling it against the wall. The sound echoes through the air as it smashes through the drywall.

I’ll have to get a new phone, but lucky for me, we go through burners so often we are basically a phone store.

It’s only a few minutes later when Lorenzo walks back in. He looks at me and then at the far wall.

“Problems?” he asks as he points at the phone.

“I called my cousin.”

All emotions other than anger evaporate from his eyes. It reminds me of ice spreading, hardening his features.

“Didn’t go well?”

“What gave that away?” I lift a sarcastic brow.

“Could be the broken glass on the floor.” Lorenzo shrugs, trying to loosen the mood. It works as I lean back in my chair.

“What did you find out?”

“Nothing yet on the Marco front. As for Cristian, I secured more guns for us. We have to meet to go over the numbers and models we want. He wants us to go to his warehouse in New York to look over his inventory. How many are you thinking?”